


The Box

by LadyJaxlynn



Series: Mini Stories (SPN) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:58:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22338163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyJaxlynn/pseuds/LadyJaxlynn
Summary: Anyone with the Mark of Cain was a threat. Even Erin. No loyalty could save her from the Box.
Series: Mini Stories (SPN) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608070
Comments: 11
Kudos: 3





	The Box

Everything felt dark and heavy. 

How could they have done this to her? They had begged her to help and then deceived her. Why had they deceived her? They had called her sister and given a flannel. A FLANNEL. What had she done wrong? She had given up on hammering her fist against the metal box after the first day. The panic still buzzed through her veins but the desire to scream had left her when the reality had sunk in that she was past the point of no return. 

She could hear the whales singing outside, a sound she had once longed to explore was now the only music she would ever hear again. Crabs scurry across the top of the metal coffin, she wondered how long until she would be buried under the shifting sands. Tides in and out. 

Erin could not think like that anymore or it would give the Mark more power. That can’t happen. Not if she wanted to escape. She was going to escape.  
Dean had sworn it was the only way for her not to become a monster. He had been the most disappointed when he discovered that Lucifer had given her the Mark when he had first escaped the Cage. His whole face had changed, his attitude towards her. The older brother she had come to admire was gone. She was nothing but a monster to him. The ghost of who he had once been.

Forget that she had lasted eight years without losing herself or giving in to the darkness. Now they used her to save their precious Clare and then when the first sign of the Mark had presented itself, she was locked into this box.

Castiel had remained silent and she knew why.

Much like Dean was Michael’s Sword and Sam was Lucifer’s ideal vessel… Erin was a vessel but didn’t know to whom. All she knew was he looked at her with so much guilt and pain that she knew it was someone important he had lost.

Something sent shock waves through the box.

Her breath caught in her throat. Would she need to keep breathing? Would the inactive mark keep her alive? The boys had believed it would, hadn’t they? She heard the sound again… was it a battle? Would someone be listening in a sonar?

It was worth a chance… She let out a shaky breath into the darkness.

The side of her fist hit the coffin ceiling. Three short taps, three long, three short. Pause. Repeat.

She had no idea how long it had been since she began but she didn’t stop until the sounds of battle had faded.

Alone with the ocean again, she did what she had been trained to do. She prayed.

Some small portion of her brain registered that no one was listening but she didn’t care. Her story poured from her pathetic prayer to anyone to hear, not focusing on any individual. 

She wished that she had written this story down and hoped that Chuck would have the decency to give her some credit… or at least mention her in the story. She hadn’t been in the Gospels because she wasn’t considered a character of value. What a pretentious prick. 

She had to push those thoughts away. They did not sound like her. That voice belonged to the Mark. 

Hatred always belonged to the Mark and she refused to entertain it. She had to be grateful, that was what her mother had taught her before she had been slaughtered.

Erin was thankful that she had been able to rescue her brother from eternal torture. Thankful that Lucifer had looked at her with some form of twisted compassion and not touched him in the cage.

She had gotten a glimpse of him in the bunker, Erin wondered if Michael had sensed her there or if the centuries in the cage had erased her from their memory. The boys had not told her he was alive and she assumed it was to make this transition easier.

Praying to Michael was out of the question, she couldn’t put that burden on her little brother.

Chuck would hear her… Castiel would hear every detail… She had even cried out to Amara but there was no response. In honesty, she knew not to expect one but she could not give up hope. Someone would find her. Someone would have mercy.

She knew that is must be what it was like to be awake in the empty, alone with only this darkness that could not be reasoned with. Dean and Sam had assured her that Death could not reap her now… but what if Billy would just take Erin somewhere else? Maybe to the apocalypse world where if she was to lose her control, the world was already doomed. Somewhere Chuck had abandoned and forgotten about.

There was warmth on her cheeks. The tears were back. She wanted freedom. God, she wanted to feel sunshine.

No, Erin. 

Don’t cry.

Remember the sunshine. She couldn’t tell if her eyes were opened or closed anymore. She was saving the flashlight for when she forgot. Forgot light. Forgot hope. It would blind her for a while but it would be enough to rescue her a little longer.

She missed the dead. She missed her mother’s love. John’s gruff kindness to her. She missed Gabriel sneaking her treats. She missed Lucifer speaking to her in her dreams and telling her his version of the fall. All Erin wanted was to be asleep in the backseat of the impala next to the stuffy angel who could not understand how she could see his wings.  
How could she not? She had been safe and been able to save others but that meant nothing now.

Rest here for a while until the Mark calms down, that’s what Sam had shakily told her. She knew something was wrong by the way his smile had been so forced while Dean’s had been so cold. Cas hadn’t even managed the courage to be present as she was locked away.

The Mark had warned her, Chuck had warned her, even Lucifer had warned her but she had been naive. Crowley had tried to convince her to pass the Mark on before… before he… She was sobbing again. She had loved that demon with more than brotherly affection but he had given everything to save the world. He was the king of Hell and had given his life into those Winchester's hands and now he was gone.

She was gone too.

No. Not yet.

She was still alive. She would be rescued. She would prove them wrong.

Sleep pulled at her, at least she still had the ability to sleep.

She hummed the lost song she remembered hearing before the locked the box…

“Carry on my wayward son…”

Everything felt dark and heavy.


End file.
